


How to love your depressed Stiles

by Amarus



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Stiles is depressed and Derek tries his best, Writing Exercise, Writing on Skin, based on a writing 'how to love your depressed lover'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-23 05:56:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/618845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amarus/pseuds/Amarus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek doesn't know how to fix things.</p>
<p>But he tries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How to love your depressed Stiles

**Author's Note:**

> Last night I thought I kissed  
> the loneliness from out your belly button.  
> I thought I did, but later you sat up,  
> all bones and restless hands, and told me that  
> there is a knot in your body that I cannot undo.  
> I never know what to say to these things.  
> “It’s okay.” “Come back to bed.”  
> “Please don’t go away again.”  
> Sometimes you are gone for days at a time  
> and it is all I can do not to call the police,  
> file a missing person’s report, even though  
> you are right there, still sleeping next to me  
> in bed. But your eyes are like an empty house  
> in winter: lights left on to scare away intruders.  
> Except in this case I am the intruder and you  
> are already locked up so tight that no one  
> could possibly jimmy their way in.  
> Last night I thought I gave you a reason  
> not to be so sad when I held your body like  
> a high note and we both trembled from the effort.  
> Some people, though, are sad against all reason,  
> all sensibility, all love. I know better now.  
> I know what to say to the things you admit to me  
> in the dark, all bones and restless hands.  
> “It’s okay.” “You can stay in bed.”  
> “Please come back to me again.”  
> -How to love your depressed lover by five--a--day (Tumblr)

There’s many things in Stiles Stilinski that you might miss if you’re not paying attention.

In example, he loves milk. He licks his lips when he’s short on things to say or when he’s thinking. He’s afraid of pools. He doesn't like lizards or car repair shops.  
As one more example: he’s not that much of a talker - or yes, he is, but that’s just because most of the time he won’t bother filtering himself - but he misdirects. He never talks about things that matter.  
He’s one of that type of people who bottle their feelings up until they’re drowning in them, barely managing to live inside their own heads and still not asking for help.

Derek is so very aware of that,- he’s the one who keeps the list about ‘things that usually go unnoticed of Stiles Stilinski’ -, as he is about Stiles’s current mental state.  
He knows by experience how fragile human body is, how easily it’s starved and exhausted - in just few short days - and how easily mental disturbances upset that delicate balance.  
That’s why he goes by to the Stilinski household every single night, to make sure that the teenager goes to bed in reasonable hours and remembers to eat - if not much, at least a little.  
If the ex-sheriff is working late shift, Derek stays.

Some nights, when Stiles is feeling restless or anxious, he calls Derek in - despite his father being present.  
And Derek always follows the call, letting Stiles use his chest as a pillow and fold his body against his. Derek tells him tales from his childhood, his early years in school, their baseball-team until Stiles is sleeping, his breathing even and his face looking like it should: peaceful, calm.

He always stays up those nights, making sure Stiles isn't seeing nightmares or having a panic attack if he wakes up in cold sweat with teary eyes and hammering pulse.  
Because if he does, he’s there to wipe the tears away and tenderly kiss the loneliness out of Stiles’s bellybutton, to whisper soothing things against the fair skin as he writes them down with his fingertip.  
It’s usually what his boyfriend needs to calm down, the feathery touches and quietly spoken words.

But later on, when he wakes to the dip of the bed, he knows that it isn't enough tonight.

Those are the times when he finds himself completely lost, not knowing what to do or say to set things right.  
He doesn't ever know how to react (“It’s okay” “Come back to bed” “Please don’t go away again”) and all he gets is something about sleeping on the couch this night and this tired, drained smile that never reaches Stiles’s eyes and makes him look hollowed out.

Foreign.

And Derek wants to do nothing more than to grip him tight and force him stay, to make him blend back to that familiar Stiles that he fell in love with.  
But he never does that. He nods and reminds him that he loves him and tells him to take proper blanket because it’s chilly downstairs.  
And Stiles leaves, leaves again and again and again, from the room that feels odd and cold without him.

When that happens, he’s gone for days at a time and it is all Derek can do not to call the police, file a missing person’s report.  
Because he’s not truly gone, not in the way that can be helped by officers.  
Stiles is right there, still sleeping next to him in bed, warm and soft and living. But his eyes are like an empty house in winter: lights left on to scare away intruders.  
Except that in this case Derek is the intruder.

So when Stiles opens up all shaky hands and trembling lips, Derek wants to cry from relief because it’s a sign that Stiles, his Stiles, is coming back.  
When he missteps then, when he gets it all wrong - _when Stiles would need someone to hold his hand and egg him through the most painful sentences, and Derek kisses him silent, or when the teenager would need someone to silence his brain with embrace and hot lips over his, and Derek keeps prodding him to speak_ -, he can’t stand it.  
He can’t stand to see how he pulls back, already locked up so tight that no one could possibly jimmy their way in.

That’s when Derek gets up and kisses him softly, telling the youngster that ‘I should go check on the pack tonight’, but that ‘I’m always only one phone call away’.  
And Stiles nods, but never once calling him on the nights he has left.

Some nights, Derek thinks they’re doing well. Some nights he thinks that he has given Stiles a reason not to be sad when he holds his body like a high note and they’re both trembling from effort.  
Some people, though, are sad against all reason, all sensibility, all love.

Derek gets to know it.

And then, he knows better.

When the feathery touches and quietly spoken words aren't enough and he wakes to the dip of the bed, he knows what to say.

“It’s okay” “You can stay in bed” “Please come back to me again”


End file.
